


The Emerald Feather

by VenetaPsi



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action, Action Dueling, Ages 11 to 17, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Anxiety, BAMF Brian, Character Development, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Developing War, Epic Battles, Evan-centric, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Growing Up, Hufflepuff!Nogla, Inter-house relations, Internalized Homophobia, Let's be real eleven year olds don’t know how life works, M/M, Male Friendship, Maybe a little with the Gryffindors, Mixed-house relations, No-house bashing, Nogla is really smart, Overcoming Homophobia, Overcoming anxiety, Political tension, Politics, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Puberty, Quidditch, Ravenclaw!Brian, Scary-ass-mother-fucker Evan, See all sortings in notes, Slow Burn, Slytherin!Evan, So is evan, Teenage mental issues, They do some stupid stuff, War, Wartime Politics, Year-by-year chapters, brian-centric, don’t you dare think otherwise, seven years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22925389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenetaPsi/pseuds/VenetaPsi
Summary: There had always been something different about him. Something odd, weird, strange in the way events occurred, coincidences arised, impossibilities coincided. Brian had grown used to it, indifferent to random frustrating school papers bursting into flames or particularly irritating adults being suddenly unable to speak; nothing but air escaping their lips.It was so normalized to him, in fact, that when he received a letter in the mail, made of solid, heavy parchment and written in beautiful green ink, he didn’t bat an eye at its contents.Instead, he sat on the couch, fingers running idly over the words again and again, relishing in the feeling of rightness, of completion burning in his chest.He was a wizard.
Relationships: Brian Hanby & John | KryozGaming, Brian Hanby & Jonathan | H2ODelirious, Brian Hanby & SMii7Y, Brian Hanby/Daithi De Nogla, Evan Fong & Brian Hanby, Evan Fong/Brian Hanby (eventually), John | Kryozgaming & SMii7Y, Jonathan | H2ODelirious & Luke Patterson, Kelly | Nilkski/Tyler | I AM WILDCAT, Luke Patterson & Tyler | I AM WILDCAT
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	The Emerald Feather

**Author's Note:**

> INFORMATION: This story is set post the events of the official canon Harry Potter series. There are references to "the war", aka the events of the final books in the HP series. No canonical characters appear in this story, though some are vaguely referenced to. The "war" referenced in the tags refers to an upcoming war later in the story. (I also apologize for the horrible formatting 'Rich Text' causes)
> 
> \---
> 
> Ravenclaws:  
> Brian Hanby (TheGamingTerrorizer) - Muggleborn  
> Jonathan [Delirious] Smith (H2ODelirious) - Pureblood  
> Jaren [Smitty] Smith (Smii7y) - Pureblood
> 
> Slytherins:  
> Evan Fong (Vanossgaming) - Pureblood  
> John Keyes (Kryoz) - Pureblood  
> Luke Patterson (CaRtOoNz) - Pureblood
> 
> Hufflepuffs:  
> David [Nogla] Nagle (DaithiDeNogla) - Half-blood  
> Brock Barrus (Moo) - Muggleborn  
> Ryan (Ohmwrecker) - Muggleborn
> 
> Gryffindors:  
> Tyler Wine (IAMWILDCAT) - Half-blood  
> Scott [Scotty] (FourZer0Seven) - Half-blood  
> Anthony Brown (BigJigglyPanda) - Muggleborn  
> Marcel Cunningham (BasicallyIDoWrk) - Pureblood  
> Kelly - Pureblood

There had always been something different about him. Something odd, weird,  _ strange  _ in the way events occurred, coincidences arised, impossibilities coincided. Brian had grown used to it, indifferent to random frustrating school papers bursting into flames or particularly irritating adults being suddenly unable to speak; nothing but air escaping their lips. 

It was so normalized to him, in fact, that when he received a letter in the mail, made of solid, heavy parchment and written in beautiful green ink, he didn’t bat an eye at its contents. 

Instead, he sat on the couch, fingers running idly over the words again and again, relishing in the feeling of  _ rightness _ , of  _ completion _ burning in his chest. 

_ He was a wizard. _

His Mom was far less pleased. 

Still, Brian was nothing if not resourceful and stubborn. Sure it took three weeks of arguments and begging and pleading and making fucking powerpoints, because “jesus fucking christ Mom, this is where I need to be”,  _ but it worked. _

__ Now Brian was perched on a bench, feeling the hum of the train running through his legs and fingers and filling his body, relishing in the fact that he was going to a bloody school for magic. He twisted his new wand impatiently in his hands, stroking the smooth, dark ebony wood over and over the same way he’d fiddle with pencils in primary school. 

“ _ Ebony, powerful in combative magic and Transfiguration. Happiest with those strong enough to be themselves. _

__ _ “Thunderbird tail feather core. Also for Transfiguration, you’ll be a powerful one no doubt. They’re tricky to handle though, difficult to use. You’ve got to earn the wands trust.  _

__ _ “Finally...twelve inches, exact, and quite unyielding. You’ll be a pair that stick to your roots, Mr. Hanby. Such strength and determination, though quite dangerous if you get too trapped in your ways.” _

__ The brunette bounced impatiently, staring out the window at the messy blur of browns and blues and greens.  _ This was actually happening.  _ With a sigh, the excited eleven year-old slumped back against the seat, forcing himself to take a deep breath and wait. He might as well get comfortable. It was going to be a long ride. 

\---

Brian clutched the side of the boat until his knuckles turned white, starting up in shock at the giant castle looming above them. The water washed up against the sides, spraying him with dark, cool mist. Brian ignored the dampness, entranced. Hogwarts seemed to glow in the quickly dawning moonlight, windows illuminated with brilliant gold against grey stone. 

“Damn…” Whispered a voice to Brian’s right, and the brunette didn’t bother even glancing at the speaker, instead just nodding his silent agreement, continuing to watch as the castle drew closer and closer. 

When the first years stepped out of the boats, all weak knee’d and trembling with excitement and nerves, a stern-faced woman greeted them with a brief explanation of the houses and school that Brian completely missed (He already knew this shit, he’d done his reading thank you very much). He was too busy watching the floor and walls and statues as they wound their way up staircases and through hallways towards two enormous wood doors that bled loud voices and excited shouts into the ears of their quiet group. 

The woman paused right before the doors, which she dubbed ‘The Great Hall’, and turned to face them.

“Past these doors is the rest of your school, your classmates in years two through seven.” She scanned the crowd of young faces and Brian bit down a snap of annoyance for her to  _ just get on with it already.  _ “You will stay in alphabetical order as I have lined you up, and will be called forward by your last, and then given name. If you go by something else, this will be discussed with teachers and housemates at another time.”

A dark brunette with rounded, sweet features suddenly snapped a hand up sharply and the woman gave him a look. 

_ “After, _ young man. You can hear your given name for one night.”

The boy made a rather nasty face, coffee-colored eyes narrowing, but lowered his hand and stayed silent. Brian turned back towards the front when their guide continued. 

“The sorting is an annual event, and all first years are placed into their houses, decided by the values of each student. There are four, as I previously explained. 

“Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Despite what you may hear, there is  _ no _ house that is lesser or worse than the others.”

Some murmering broke out behind Brian, something about ‘Slytherin’ and faint laughter and Brian wanted to smack someone because this really was taking way too fucking long. 

“Bearing that in mind,” The woman intoned, finally reaching backwards to push open the door to the Great Hall, “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

Despite all efforts to the contrary, Brian was floored. The dramatics were justified, he grudgingly admitted, as their little procession shuffled into the hall; all eyes turning to face them. 

The ceiling looked like the open night sky, all puffy clouds and glittering stars against ink. Little glowing lanterns floated stationary throughout the entire room, illuminating everything with golden light. Four tables stretched across the length of the hall, two on either side of them. Each reached towards the one long table perpendicular to the others, which Brian realized must be the staff table. 

When they halted in their little line, Brian glanced at each other tables; Green and Blue were to his left,  _ Slytherin and Ravenclaw, Ambition and Cleverness _ , he remembered. To his right, Yellow and Red.  _ Hufflepuff and Gryffindor; Loyalty and Bravery. _

Then the first name was called.

It was bizarre, watching the entire hall fell silent as the first year student stepped forward towards a stool and an old tattered hat (Brian vaguely remembered that it was supposed to sing, wasn’t it?). The brunette; Barrus, Brock, as the woman had said, was clearly nervous, and Brian did not envy his position as first in the alphabet. He held his head high however, his steps never faltering and Brian had to commend him. He’d probably be a Gryffindor. 

There was a minute of dead silence, after Brock had put the hat on his head when there was nothing but crackling fire throughout the entire hall. Then that hat blurted out HUFFLEPUFF and Brian blanched in surprise before clapping along respectfully with the rest of the hall. Damn, he’d been wrong. 

Then it became a game to guess what house people would be in simply by the way they walked up. 

The next person, Brown, Anthony, strode with relative confidence up to the hat, and Brian was confirmed correct this time at the quickly followed shout of GRYFFINDOR. The sorting continued on, name after name, face after face and they hit a point when Brian was simply bored of all the people going past. Cunningham, Marcel was also a Gryffindor; he stood out as the only African American kid Brian had seen yet.

The boy in front of Brian eventually turned around, and asked what his last name was. 

“Hanby,” he replied, attention still half focused on the current girl sitting on the stool. She’d be a Ravenclaw, maybe. 

“I guess there’s no G’s,” The boy mused, and Brian cut him a look, half annoyed at being distracted. 

“Oh yeah?” he replied, and it came out snappier than he intended. 

“There must not be, if you’re an H and I’m an F,” The boy replied, voice calm and unrepentant. Brian met the boy’s dark eyes, intent on shutting down his smart ass comment, but the words shriveled and died before they left his lips. The boy’s expression glittered with silent laughter, with a hidden sense of knowing and Brian realized this kid was  _ trying _ to make him blow up. The raven haired, Asian looking boy before him found his overreaction  _ amusing, _ the little shit. 

Brian took a deep breath, calmed his response, and gave the boy a small smile. 

“That does make sense, doesn’t it.”

The boy smiled back, and Brian knew then that he’d passed whatever strange test he’d been subjected to. 

“Fong, Evan!” was announced, and the black haired boy,  _ Evan, _ turned on his heel and walked calmly up towards the Sorting Hat. His posture was relaxed, but excitement bled through in the slight bounce of his steps and the smile tugging at his lips. 

Several seconds later, the hat’s announcement melded in perfect unison with the whispered conclusion that escaped Brain’s lips. 

_ Slytherin. _

Despite the sudden whispers from the Gryffindors, Evan removed the hat and walked towards the Slytherin table, unfazed. Brian applauded him simply for that. 

Then “Hanby, Brian,” was being called. 

It was a surreal experience, to walk forward amid the crowd with nothing but the sound of his own footsteps echoing in his ears. He picked up the hat, sat down on the stool and plopped it down on his brown curls. 

_ ‘The previous boy mentioned you, my child.’ _

It took a lot of effort not to flinch violently at the sudden voice that echoed around his head. Clearly no one else could hear it though, since Brian hadn't heard a peep from the hat throughout the entire sorting. 

_ ‘You’re clever, you are. Quick thinking, quick witted. Strength too, and power in the future, if you join forces with the right people, make the right friends. You’d do right well in Slytherin, with that destiny.’ _

He wasn’t really opposed to Slytherin, Brian mundanely supposed. Though the obvious bias against the house would be frustrating. 

_ ‘I think the root of that strength, however, lies in your mind, child. Let’s put you where you will thrive. Make sure not to fall into the same traps others do, young man.’ _

He took the hat off with RAVENCLAW and applause ringing in his ears. 

As he settled down at the blue table, people cheering and josling him and clapping him on the back, he glanced past his housemates towards the wall and the nearby Slytherin table, gaze settling on black hair and a tanned, rounded face. 

Evan gave him a small, genuine smile; an edge of hesitance bleeding in as though he feared Brian might reject him. 

Brian grinned back.

A couple minutes later, Keyes, John, a tall brunette with a very obvious and very silent ‘I don’t give a shit what you think’ attitude was sorted into Slytherin as well. Evan scooched over to make room for the new arrival and they began conversing casually. Brian watched in amusement between sortings as John was given a similar test to the one he himself had gotten. 

He almost laughed at Evan’s poorly concealed expression of surprise when John too passed. Brian suspected the short, wicked sharp boy hadn’t had much challenge intellectually in the past. The look of delight that quickly filled Evan’s face almost made Brian snort in the middle of the silent hall. 

  
  


Nagle, David, was sorted into Hufflepuff; insanely tall for their age, dark haired, green eyed. Almost like he sensed Brian’s eyes on him, their gazes met, and David gave him a quick grin before sitting down between Brock and a smiling, blonde haired girl. 

Maybe making friends here wouldn’t be as hard as Brian feared. 

As time passed, Brian flipped between impatiently watching the sorting, staring at his housemates, and seeing Evan turn and begin drilling yet another new Slytherin arrival (Patterson, Luke). Clearly this boy picked his friends very selectively. 

The next most interesting thing was Smith, Jaren, being sorted into Ravenclaw. It was the dark brunette from before, the one who cringed painfully when his name was announced. Once he was sorted he hurried over to their table and Brian scooted to the side to make some room. He sat down with a grateful smile and turned to face Brian. 

“Smitty,” The brunette said pleasantly, and extended a hand for Brian to shake. “And if you call me Jaren I  _ will  _ kill you.” He gave a sweet smile, and Brian could see the sharpness and wit in those gentle eyes, the rigid seriousness below his easy posture. The fact that this kid was more Ravenclaw than Slytherin almost scared Brian.

“Nice to meet you Smitty,” Brian very pointedly responded as he shook the other’s hand. “Just Brian is fine.”

Smitty actually relaxed for the first time, his grin slipping into something more genuine and his expression softening. “Nice to meet you too, man.”

Christ the people at this school were insane. 

Their attention was snapped up by the next name, Smith, Jonathan, being called. With a quick reassurance that they were  _ not _ in fact related (“I’m Canadian thank you very much, that kid is clearly an American,” Smitty was quite indignet about this), they clapped in surprise as Jonathan was pronounced another Ravenclaw. They scootched once more, making room for the third member of their 1st year posse, and the new black-haired arrival grinned happily. 

“Hey guys. I’m Jonathan, or Jon. But friends call me Delirious, so go with that.”

It had to be one of the most roundabout ways Brian had been told he was now someone’s friend. And now  _ he  _ was starting to feel like the odd one out for using his given name. Smitty and Delirious seemed to hit it off surprisingly quickly, so Brian left them to it as he observed the few remaining people in the sorting. Finally it ended with Wine, Tyler, being sorted into Gryffindor and joining the others. 

The rest of the time passed in meals (the food appeared out of nowhere, just ‘poofed’ into existence on the table), announcements and introductions for teachers and prefects. It was fucking late by the time they were dismissed, upperclassmen running off ahead and 1st years curiously toddling behind their prefects. Needless to say, Brian was exhausted. 

He caught the small wave Evan gave him as he and the other Slytherins headed down the stairs, the only house to do so. The Hufflepuffs stayed on the first floor but took a separate corridor, while the Ravenclaws followed the whooping and shouting Gryffindors up the constantly changing staircases. 

Brian was practically dead on his feet by the time they reatched the Ravenclaw common room and dorms, way off in a tower across the castle from the Great Hall (Fucking hell, they needed to solve a riddle to enter the common room! Why couldn’t they have a password like everyone else?). He wasn’t the only one falling asleep either, Delirious was swaying dangerously on his feet and Smitty kept stifling yawns behind his sleeve. In response, the prefect gave them all a pitying look and sent them to bed without preamble, reassuring them that rules could be explained the next morning. 

The three of them were the only male Ravenclaw first years, and when they reached their dorm room they simply split up and collapsed onto beds, sleepily throwing clothes across the room at their unopened trunks. 

Brian was just dozing off amid the thick sheets and warm comforter when Delirious grumbled a quiet, “Goodnight” in the stillness. Smitty’s response only vaguely resembled English, and Brian didn’t do more than lift a hand in a slight wave.

He still fell asleep with a smile on his lips and a gentle warmth thrumming in his chest, however.

\---

Classes were probably the most amazing thing Brian had ever been to. It was thrilling, feeling magic hum in his veins, warmth traveling from his wand to his fingers. Even the theory was fascinating, if monotonous at times. History of Magic was taught by a bloody ghost, and Defense Against the Dark Arts had a curriculum that revolved around deadly magical monsters and hexes and curses. 

The first few days were an absolute whirlwind; running around the building, getting lost with Delirious and Smitty in increasingly hysterical ways and listening to curriculums being explained, each more fascinating than that last. He practically vibrated the entire way through Transfiguration, remembering he’d been told his wand an affinity for it and desperate to try some of the more practical uses. 

Perhaps the most… interesting experiences however, were the combined classes; two houses in the same class. 

For the most part, The Ravenclaws had lessons with the Hufflepuffs. Herbology was the most prominent of these classes; fifteen first years all cramped in a greenhouse full of highly toxic, highly dangerous plants. 

It was so much fucking fun. 

As a result of this common combination, Brian and the other claws became quick acquaintances and even faster friends with David and Brock, the former who introduced himself as ‘Nogla’. Brian was delighted to learn that Nogla was also Irish, and the two spent time chattering away in increasingly dramatic accents just because they knew it made their friends laugh. Brian and Brock bonded over their mutual use of their given name, and happily spent their time teasing the others for their ridiculous nicknames. 

In retaliation, Brock earned the nickname ‘Moo’ for his love of animals and the constant ‘booing’ he got for making puns. Brian was dubbed ‘Terrorizer’ because all the teachers started to hate him; he distracted the entire class and still got shockingly good grades. 

Sadly, the nicknames seemed to stick. 

The Gryffindors were a whole other story, full of boundless energy that Brian found equal parts hilarious and annoying. They had Defense together, and Brian took an instant liking to Marcel. The boy was loud and stubborn, took no shits from anyone, and cast a mean hex. He was incredibly bright too, and had a special place in his heart for magical creatures of all caliber and danger. Brian needed to introduce him to Brock. 

Anthony was quite similar to Marcel in his confidence, more specifically marked by his boisterous laughter and friendly attitude. He wasn’t as good at academics as Marcel or Delirious were (admittedly those two were exceptionally brilliant), but he seemed more in touch with the experience rather than the attitude. Brian respected that. 

Tyler and his fast friend Scotty on the other hand, were the fucking life of the house. They were loud, disruptive, complained about fucking everything, and were two of the most blunt, genuine, hysterically funny people Brian had ever met. It was such a switch, the days that Brian adored their presence and the days he wanted to throttle them against the nearest wall. 

This all changed when, three days into the school year, Brian stumbled into Defense with a killer migraine. Spots danced in front of his eyes and he was damn near ready to scream in frustration. Tyler took one look at him and stood up, taking the brunette’s arm and steering him out of the classroom; he completely ignored both Brian’s protests and the teacher’s annoyance. Scotty stayed behind to call the teacher off. Tyler took him directly to the hospital wing, where the nurse cast a couple spells and gave Brian a potion that instantly dulled the piercing pain to a gentle throb. 

There was an unspoken truce from then on. Tyler didn’t complain so much when Brian was in earshot, toned down his attitude, and Brian started giving the other a chance to explain himself instead of instantly assuming he was being difficult. 

The highlight of everything though, was the Slytherins. 

The very first thing Brian learned about social status at Hogwarts, was that no one liked the Slytherins. Tensions from past wars (yes,  _ wars, _ Brian was alarmed to learn) had created an enormous divide that separated Green for everything else. Obviously, as a muggleborn, Brian didn’t know this. 

His housemates did. 

The first time he asked, it was to Delirious at breakfast on the fifth day. Delirious cut him a strange look for a second, mouth full of toast, before seemingly remembering Brian wasn’t originally of his world. He explained between (and sometimes through) bites of food that many people considered Slytherins more likely to ‘go dark’, or use their magic for evil. The big bad of the previous war had been a Slytherin, along with many of his followers. 

Delirious then promptly continued to shrug and call the whole thing bullshit. 

“They ain’t any different then you or me or any of the other houses. My brother’s a Slytherin.” He motioned vaguely towards the direction of Luke Patterson, the pale brunet from the sorting who was conversing cheerfully with some of the second years. Brian remembered him as one of the people subjected to Evan’s interrogation. 

“He's just ambitious is all, and sly. He knows how and when to lie. He’s cunning; that’s what everyone is afraid of. They just can’t compete. They don’t like knowing there's people out there that can talk circles around them. But he’s a sweet, loyal guy. Competitive too. Like any other boy. You just want to make sure you’re on his good side is all. ”

Brian quietly sat and contemplated those words as he finished his meal, eyes unconsciously straying to that recognizable mop of black hair and remembrance of a quick-fire tongue. 

That day they had their first class with the Slytherins; Potions. 

The dungeons were different from the rest of the school, cooler and more sparsely lit; built of grey stone and carved black marble. Most people seemed unnerved, and Brian praised himself in his choice of friends when Delirious and Smitty continued walking like nothing had changed while most students paused and blanched in disgust or fear. 

There were a couple whispers of pity, of the poor Slytherins who had to live in the dungeons. Other comments were more crude, that the Snakes were in the dank where they belonged, that of course they hide away in the dark, scary shadows. 

The Slytherins themselves never acknowledged this mockery. 

Brian saw them as a group, the first year boys; Evan, John and Luke. They were as close to the snickers as the Ravenclaws were, but none of them gave any evidence that they’d even heard a thing; just continued talking and walking as though nothing had changed. In a sudden flash of frustration and defiance, Brian jogged ahead, slowing to a stop on Evan’s unoccupied left. 

The male gave him a curious look, then a smile and the Slytherins let him slide into step with them as natural as could be. Delirious and Smitty hurried to catch up. Luke then split off to speak to Delirious and John offered Smitty an introduction when the dark brunet was abandoned by the brothers. 

Evan slowed his pace and Brian followed, until they were walking side by side behind the other pairs. They didn’t speak, but the silence was comfortable, friendly even. Brian could practically see Evan’s mind whirling behind those bright eyes. He was a puzzle, and the Irishman had this itching fascination to figure him out. 

Apparently the six of them made history when they reached the Potions classroom and continued to stay in their mixed-house pairs for class. Luke and Delirious obviously had been planning to partner up, and Smitty and John had hit it off. So Evan motioned to the nearest table with a questioning look and Brian shrugged, then followed. 

The whispers and confused stares and glares directed at them were almost amusing, if they weren’t the sad evidence of a prejudiced generation.

  
  


As class started Brian watched curiously as Evan started moving potion-making equipment casually around the table, rearranging the generic setup placed at each table. His movements were fluid and practiced; second nature. 

“You do this a lot then, don’t you?” he asked, and Evan gave him a small smile. 

“Blowing things up is a talent of mine.”

Somehow Brian didn’t doubt it. 

Their teacher was a strict seeming woman, no nonsense and commanding. She seemed smart however, like she knew what she was doing, and that was enough to command Brian’s respect. After a brief lecture, she passed out specific recipe books and instructed them to try and create the first potion, as a pre-test of sorts. She would offer no help, and no instruction beyond what the book said. The ingredient cabinet was free to their use and they could use any prior knowledge they wished. 

God how Brian wished he could’ve bottled the gleam that appeared in Evan’s eyes, simply for anytime he was feeling down. That expression of utter glee forced him to use every technique he knew not to start laughing obnoxiously in the silent classroom. 

Once they were released to their own devices, Brian followed Evan’s lead. The boy talked fast, alive in a way Brian had never seen before. He gestured with his hands, moving objects smartly as he explained to Brian what he was doing. 

Brian could see the effort the boy was putting into slowing his ramblings and softening his actions in a way that Brian could follow. The Irshman grew a fond appreciation for the thoughtfulness Evan put into his teaching; showing Brian which potion ingredients were what and how they were used. Clearly the boy recognized he was a muggleborn. About halfway through the steps for the potion, Brian felt confident enough to start taking initiative. 

Evan smiled and nodded him along when he was right, or grabbed his wrist and adjusted whatever movement Brian was making when he was wrong. Clearly potions were Evan’s forte, and by the end of the class period Brian was starting to understand why. 

There was little to no wand use in potions. It didn’t rely on natural or magical talent, nor on flashiness or prowess like many other subjects could. Potions were logical and methodical, but, as Brian learned through Evan’s chatter, incredibly powerful. You could make potions that cured poison or healed the body back from the brink of death. You could put people to sleep, increase someone's luck; make someone envious or make them fall in love. Potions had practical applications too, changing the colors or strength of things, helping plants grow or killing them off. They could even be weapons; fire in a bottle or death in a spoon. 

It was probably the most Slytherin reasoning for liking a subject that Brian had ever heard. 

By the end of class, he completely agreed. 

In the end, he was proud of their creation. Evan placed their finished product on the teacher’s desk, a pale blue liquid in a small glass vial. The woman nodded at him, then looked up and repeated the gesture towards Brian. 

Evan gave him a wide smile when he turned back around and started heading back towards their table. 

Brian, already packed up, watched the boy contentedly as he shoved books and quills back into his bag. Evan’s wand he noticed, laying on the table, was made of Hawthorn; a middle toned, goldish-brown wood.  _ What did his textbook say about Hawthorn again? _ He racked his brain idly.

_ Hawthorn wands are complex and intriguing in their nature, just like the owners who best suit them. They lend themselves to users adept at Healing Magic and Curses, though often their user is facing internal turmoil. When handled badly spells can backfire. _

“What’s your core?” he asked curiously, paying no mind to how strangely the question came out. Evan gave him a questioning look before following his gaze to the wand beside him.

“Oh. A White River Monster Spine. It’s 11.5 inches and quite flexible I believe the wandmaker said.” He recited before he chuckled lightly. “I’m guessing you already figured out it’s Hawthorn?

Brian nodded smugly, and Evan laughed softly before slipping the wand into his pocket. 

_ Wands with White River Monster Spines produce spells of elegance and force. _

The bell rang throughout the building, and Evan waved goodbye to him as he followed the other Slytherins out of the room. Brian headed over towards Smitty and Delirious, and watched until that mess of black hair vanished around a corner. 

Evan’s wand suited him.

Complex. Intriguing. Elegant and Forceful.

That boy was a goddamn puzzle. 

\---

Days, weeks, months flew by in a flurry of learning and magic and  _ homework. _ Very quickly Brian was developing favorite classes; Herbology with David and Potions with Evan being the forefront. He’d grown quite fond of his friends, and especially his housemates. 

Delirious was as quiet and straightforward as Smitty was loud and blunt. Then there’d randomly be times when they’d switch, but for the most part, Brian knew to go to Delirious when he wanted to rant or have a study partner in the library, and to go to Smitty when he was excited about something or needed a distraction from school work. 

The three mixed well and spent most of their free time dicking around the school, running through corridors or exploring halls. The school was enormous,  _ literally _ a castle, and it seemed like no one even went in half the classrooms! So they took it upon themselves to figure out the fastest paths from point A to point B, and to find the perfect place for them to hide away in their little posse if their school overwhelmed them. 

It was November when they found what they dubbed “The Pond”, an old, indoor herbology room clearly long abandoned. It was hidden way off at the far end of the castle, three corridors away from the main one and through two other empty classrooms. 

In the center of the room was a metal basin, a foot deep and curved gently upward and outward until it was about a meter in diameter. This pond held the only life in the classroom, filled with clear water and many tumbling green plants and flowers that grew over the edges of the pool and down toward the floor. 

The classroom was ringed with old wooden tables and abandoned herbology equipment; trowels, buckets, and little pots, and metal chains and plant holders dangled haphazardly from the ceiling. Browned, dead leaves curled their way around the stone walls and over the few narrow windows full of stained glass. The room was relatively shadowed, but lit in a golden, atmospheric sort of light.

The Ravens loved the place, more often than not finding themselves drifting there separately and doing homework together in the relative stillness despite no prior plans to do so. Not long after, Brian invited Nogla, their resident herbology kid. The look of pure wonder that spread across his face when they stepped in was well worth the addition of a fourth person into their secret. 

That’s also when the gentle strumming of guitar joined the soft atmosphere of their little hideaway. It became code that no one mentioned what happened in the Pond. Only those four knew Brian started crying the first time Nogla properly sung, reminded of home and life before magic and suddenly both terrified and homesick.

Smitty looked a little overwhelmed, unsure how to react, and Nogla looked shocked and guilty. Delirious, however, got up and scooched over next to Brian, then took his hand calmly and held it between his warm palms until the brunet’s shaking subsided and his tears dried up. 

Their little group was even closer from then on, and Brian had a newfound respect for the quiet calm that was Delirious.

December came and passed quickly, and the next thing anybody knew Yule was approaching. Once it was explained to Brian that Yule was treated the same as Christmas, he panicked slightly in his sudden desire to give his close friends gifts. 

For Nogla, he got a small, simple leather-bound book. The hide front had the complex design of plants and dragons pressed down and burned deep into it, and the pages were perfectly blank and ready for notes or drawing, or as Brian suspected, songwriting. 

For Smitty he got the pureblood boy a muggle flannel, a dark crimson red with black and blue accents. It fit the brunet’s fashion style and Brian found it tragic that the poor magic-raised boy had never worn one. 

For Delirious he transfigured a small pane of glass into a hollow sphere (with the help of his transfiguration teacher) and then charmed a small golden light into the center of it. It could be controlled on or off with the tap of a wand, and as a last minute detail he got his charms teacher to spell it to hover wherever it was directed. 

He mused over it for awhile, if he should get Evan a present and if so, then _ what? _ Eventually he settled on a silver quill, made of gleaming metal. Tiny emeralds were embedded along the length of it; not immediately noticeable, but they made it glow vaguely green in the light. The quill was enchanted to memorize and copy down multiple pages of text from a desired book for note taking, similar to copy-pasting on computers. It was the most expensive gift by far, a bit overboard for an eleven year-old. However Brian knew the second he saw it that it was practically made for the brilliant Slytherin. 

He caved and bought it. Apparently gemstones were far cheaper in the magical world than that of the muggles. 

Christmas Eve, or the night before Yule, finally came. The entire castle was decked out in pine branches and holly and wintery candles. The Great Hall had a giant tree in one corner, completely decorated and the entire place blazed with festivity. 

That’s when the first prank occured. 

They were all sitting in the Great Hall, eating dinner when all of a sudden a giant ‘POP’ exploded through the air like a gunshot. Everyone shrieked and ducked, only for a giant stream of liquid to suddenly materialize out of thin air above the enormous Christmas tree. The entire school watched in a mixture of awe and horror as the entire tree slowly turned a brilliant hot pink wherever the liquid touched. Within seconds, the entire tree was a horrid bright neon, all green and white dyed in awful contrast. 

There’s a second of starstruck silence before the hall exploded in shouting and laughter, and Brian couldn’t  _ breathe _ he was laughing so hysterically, because it looked so  _ stupid _ . 

The teachers got real pissed real fast, and cracked down hard on the upperclassmen. They seem convinced that only the upper-years could have pulled off such a thing. 

Brian completely disagreed. 

After all, it was the first years who had learned the color changing potion less than a week ago. 

The rest of Yule passed quite calmly, if you didn’t include the obscene amount of gossip as the entire student body tried to find the perpetrator of the prank. In fact, Brian forgot the hot pink tree the second he woke up to find presents at the foot of his bed. 

He was so gratified by the magical gifts and the thought put into them that he nearly cried.

From Smitty and Delirious he received a joint gift, a small handheld mirror made of blue stone and bronze. There was a letter that told him it was enchanted, and that each of them have their own. If he said one of their names, it would ping the other, and they could converse through the mirror. It was mostly for summer break, they said, but it worked fine in the castle. 

Nogla sent him a wand sheath, one that would tie to his thigh and hold his wand in a secure, easy to reach place that wouldn't obstruct him. It was made of delicate dark grey leather of some kind and riveted with little bronze studs. 

Brian wasn’t sure what he expected from Evan. Maybe nothing at all. Instead he found a box, simple and made of dark wood. He opened the top slowly, and inside were several objects. The first was an old beginner-intermediate potions textbook, the pages heavily covered in ink notes and the pages riddled with extra papers shoved inside. It clearly used to be Evan’s, ideas for original potions or combinations adorning every bare inch of space. Inside the front was a message, written in a familiar messy, rushed scrawl. 

_ Hey Brian- _

__ __ _ This was my first potions textbook. It's how I learned everything I know today, and it’s a great starting point. Feel free to copy all my brilliant ideas if you want. _

_ -Evan _

Brian snorted aloud, placing the book carefully beside him. Next he lifted out a little leather pouch. He undid the string carefully, and out slid the most beautiful feather Brian had ever seen. It was a glittering, vibrant black, the edges shining a metallic blue sheen. A raven feather. It was a quill, clearly. A small torn piece of parchment told him,  _ self-inking, unlosable, unbreakable.  _

__ His fingers shook slightly as he lowered the quill reverently down onto his lap, and reached for the final object, eyes burning. It was a small glass phial, full of an inky black liquid. Tiny specks of hot pink flashed slightly as he shook it, and Brian began to laugh. 

It was a tiny sample of a color changing potion. One that would turn something a bright, neon pink. 

That’s how Delirious and Smitty woke up, to Brian’s soft laughter, one trembling hand pressed over his face as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

It was the most thoughtful gift Brian had ever received. 

\---

The rest of the year blurred by, classes melding into one another, spells mingling as exams and the end of the year seemed to grow closer and closer. Brian was high on life, scattered between loving friends and dancing with excitement over new knowledge. The Pond became a normal, practically daily meeting place for the three ravens and their puff friend. Nogla blended into the group seamlessly, and they started to make games to play, using cards and a wizarding chess board and whatever rules they could come up with. 

One day Smitty didn’t arrive alone, instead with John in tow. For the second the other four stared, surprised, and the Slytherin stared back, quiet and unobtrusive. Then Delirious offered a handful of cards from their mock game of ‘far-more-dangerous-then-the-muggle-kind Uno’ and the spell broke. John sat down with them and by the end of the day they were laughing like the snake had always been a part of their group. 

Through silent agreement, Brock was invited. Then Tyler, and Luke. Then Tyler eventually brought Marcel, Anthony and Scotty, and Brian took it upon himself to ask Evan. 

When he mentioned that he and his friends had a secret room, Evan gave Brian a strange look, like this somehow wasn’t possible. Despite this, Evan looked shocked and almost angry the first time Brian led him to the Pond.

“Wow I’m an idiot,” Evan mumbled to himself, and then suddenly grinned. Brian didn't know what had just happened, but a part of him wondered if he should be scared. 

They decided they needed a name for themselves, this large group of mixed house friends. Moo suggested the Banana Squad, after the one living non-water tree still inhabiting the corner of the old Herbology room. Anthony suggested they name the group after buses, because he thought the bananas looked like school buses. 

None of the purebloods knew why Brian laughed so hard at Anthony’s comment. 

The Banana Bus Squad became an unofficial concensses. 

They called themselves the BBS.

Sure enough, Marcel and Brock hit it off over a mutual love of magical creatures. Tyler and Evan got in an intense, heated debate over something politics related that everyone was mildly afraid would come to blows. It must’ve solidified something between them however, because the next day they chatted as casually as if they’d always been friends. Smitty, John, and Anthony started to draw random things on old parchment in the corner of the room. Scotty and eventually Tyler and Marcel joined them, and that started the first of many intense rounds of pictionary over their final month at Hogwarts. 

In the last few weeks before exams, the Pond became an effective study club. People ranted about frustrations or bitched about homework or occasionally actually helped one another out with subjects. Marcel and Brian both quickly found their free time sucked up by questions from friends and unknown classmates alike, all desperate not to fail their tests. 

Surprisingly enough, they all left their exams at the end of June feeling relatively confident. On the last day of school, they had one final, collective meeting in the Pond, and it was a quiet, content atmosphere, permeated by gentle laughter and friendly conversations. It was bittersweet however, everyone knowing they’re not going to see one another until next year. 

There was lots of hugs and goodbyes and as Tyler proclaimed, “really gay, sappy shit” as they all split up to head to their respective dorms. Evan pulled Brian to the side and gave him one of the most real, genuine smiles Brian had seen the boy give anyone. The Irishman wasn’t able to stop himself from pulling his potions partner into a tight hug. 

He also ended up hugging Nogla goodbye, and the Hufflepuff was just slightly too tall to hug comfortably. Nogla just solved this issue by picking Brian up several inches off the ground to hug him back. It was worth the humiliation and teasing from his friends.

Finally, in the dorms, he said goodbye to Delirious and Smitty. Both reminded him about the mirror from Christmas, and that he better fucking call them. Brian promised with a laugh and a vague fear for his livelihood. 

And so he sat on the train, heading back home for the summer, and thought about all that had happened this year. He had friends now, a life he wouldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams. 

Brian let out an excited shudder as he thought about the next year, watching Hogwarts vanish over the horizon. 

He couldn’t wait to go back. 

**Author's Note:**

> FAQ:  
> \- There will be a war; there will be no Voldemort, however there will be an antagonistic group similar to Voldy and his Death Eaters  
> \- There will be a Triwizard Tournament; I am head-cannoning that it was foolishly reinstated post the old war. Age Limit for participation was set at 15. No one underage will be selected  
> \- If you are concerned by the "Major Character Death" warning, I would like to remind you that there will be a war. Death is inevitable.  
> \- The "Underage" warning refers purely to people being romantically and physically involved as couples while still being 15 or 16. (17 is considered "legal" in the Harry Potter universe). Relationships will be purely contained to the high school age range, where people usually begin dating. This warning was put into place to be safe.  
> \- There will be references to Pureblood Supremacy, the equivalent to racism in the wizarding world. Pureblood children raised with Supremacist ideals may not be mature enough to quite realize the error of their ways yet. Remember, all first years are only 11. Bearing that in mind, I have still made a significant effort to keep all of the guys realistic to their irl values; aka, not fucking racist. 
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you sincerely for reading <3 I will love you endlessly if you leave a comment, they make my day.


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